the tangibility of analog

I bought an album through iTunes awhile ago. When seeing the same album in a record store, it felt as though I didn’t already own the album, I just somehow knew the songs. There’s something strange about buying digital music. It’s cheaper, faster, more convenient, but less satisfying. There’s a connection you can have when the music is in the form of a tangible object–a record you can hold in your hands, a sleeve you can carefully examine. It’s real; it matters.
How many people used to spend their days lying on the floor, tangled up in a headphones cable, fully immersed in their favourite tunes? Not so anymore. Now it’s all about convenience. Music is just background entertainment that you play on your iPod while you go about your day. You hardly pay attention to the music. Same goes for stereo equipment. People lusted over giant stereo speakers and pristine audio; now cheap computer speakers are fine. So it’s interesting that Apple’s iTunes store will now be selling “Digital 45s”–digital downloads designed to emulate the original vinyl record, including an A Side, a B Side and artwork. Now this is a pleasantly nostalgic offering for vinyl aficionados, but it does seem a little gimmicky. I consider it a welcome addition to the iTunes store, which had already revitalized the idea of “singles” by offering individual track downloads for 99 cents, but the fact remains that there is something lost when music is completely digital. Is it just the lack of a tangible object? A burnt CD never seems quite so satisfying as an official one. Is it the artwork then? Digital artwork never quite does the trick either. Maybe it’s just more than the sum of its parts. A physical record lives and breathes and exists to saturate your very being with glorious waves of music. It even has a smell; it holds memories. A scuffed record sleeve or jewel case has stood by you over the years. A digital download consists of ones and zeros, cold and calculated; it is there and then it is gone without a trace. There is little connection and the music becomes less important, less satisfying, less tangible. Is that really worth the convenience of digital downloads?
It’s interesting that years after vinyl was phased out, it has seen a strong renaissance. Current albums continue to see a vinyl release and vintage albums are readily available. Despite moving to new technologies, there are always those who realize what these new conveniences lack and are only too happy to sacrifice convenience for quality.
Despite all this, I like the iTunes store. I think that the cheaper price makes it easier to experiment with new music and internet distribution brings fledgling artists to a worldwide audience without the need for a traditional distributor. But I’ll always yearn for a turntable.